


New Ink

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Punk, Blow Jobs, M/M, Punk Castiel, Punk Dean, Tattooed Castiel, Tattooed Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4726514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch





	New Ink

It was no secret that Castiel loved Dean’s tattoos.

Dean had figured that much out when, during one of their first romps, Cas had pretty much made it his mission to trace every single line of ink on Dean’s skin with his tongue. 

Not that Dean had complained.

Dean shoved that memory out of his head as he settled back on the leather chair he’d been ushered to. The thing squeaked a little as he got comfortable. 

Everything was just as he remembered it, here. The walls were papered with posters of fortune-tellers and psychics and old tattoo sketches. The dark green paint of the walls was hardly visible under it all. Even the smell was the same; cigarette-smoke and incense. 

Pamela scootched her wheeled stool close to his side. She gave him a smile as she prepared the ink and her tools.

“It’s been a hot minute, Dean. How’s life been treating you?”

“Good. How’s it with you?” Dean shifted again, nerves still jangling beneath his skin. God, what if this was a bad idea?

“Eh. Same old, same old.” Her eyes flicked over the exposed skin of his belly and hips. “Got yourself some new ink, hm? It’s nice work. Though I am a bit miffed it ain’t mine.”

Dean laughed a little despite himself. 

“My boyfriend did it for me. He’s the owner of a shop a couple towns away.”

“That’s sweet. How long you two been together. It’s been three years since I saw you last.”

“’Bout the same amount of time, actually.” Dean let out a breathy noise when Pamela smoothed the stencil over his hip. “Sorry, ticklish.”

“Jesus, boy. You better not get giggly when I start inking.” She carefully peeled the paper away and made a sound of approval. “What’s this chicken-scratch, anyway?”

“It’s his name. Some kind of old Biblical language that he really likes.” 

“Two of you are like a Nicholas Sparks novel.” Pamela muttered,but she sounded not the least bit vexed or bitter. “All right. If you’re ready, I’ll get this bad boy done and you can surprise your lover when you get home.”

“Sounds great.” Dean gave her a thumbs-up and settled in for the next hour or two.

***                                                          ***                                                     ***

“You’re acting strangely.”

Dean balked at Cas’ words that night as they reclined against one another on their couch before the television. Paper cartons of takeout were strewn over their laps and the coffee table. 

“What? Strange? Me? No. Nothing strange. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean fumbled with the set of chopsticks in his hand, spearing a piece of sweet-and-sour chicken into his mouth before he could damn himself by giving away the surprise.

Cas’ eyes narrowed, blue irises darkening a little. A few stray strands of navy hair flopped over his forehead when his head canted to the side. 

Dean studiously ignored the pensive, suspicious look he received and busied himself with chowing down on their dinner. 

After the takeout cartons had been stored in the fridge and most of the mess had been cleaned up, Dean jumped into the shower to wash away the clinging scent of incense and cigarette smoke that seemed to cling tenaciously to his hair and skin. 

The warm water quickly soothed the tense muscles in his body as he scrubbed quickly at his hair. In the midst of lathering his hands with soap, he heard the bathroom door crack open.

“Got any laundry?” Cas’ voice was soft over the sounds of water pounding against tile.

“Uh, yeah. By the sink, thanks.”

The door closed again and Dean let out a breath of relief. No sooner than he had started gingerly washing around his new tattoo did the door open again. This time, he wasn’t so lucky.

The curtain of the shower was pulled back quickly, revealing a shirtless Castiel holding a thin square of paper. On the palm-size thing, in embossed letters were Pamela’s number, name, and address.

“Dean, why do you have a woman’s information in your pants?” Cas’ voice was deceptively calm.

Dean fumbled for the knobs of the shower, clapping one hand over the tattoo and wincing when the thing let out a bite of pain at being abused.

Castiel caught the motion, though. He reached out, fingers catching Dean’s arms and dragging him from the shower. he tugged Dean’s hand away from his hip, eyes roving over the pinkened skin and fresh ink.

Dean swallowed hard, waiting for Cas’ judgement. Maybe it had been a bad idea to get Cas’ name tattooed on him without talking about it-

Castiel’s eyes slowly widened. One hand drifted away from Dean’s arms and hovered over the foreign letters over the jut of Dean’s hip. 

There was a moment in which all there was was pregnant silence and the sound of the shower dripping. Dean could feel water droplets trailing down from his still-soaked hair. 

“You…Dean, that’s my name.”

Dean flushed at the words, lifting one hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“Um, yeah. It is. Listen, I probably should have talked to you about it and I know it’s kinda chintzy and stupid-”

Castiel lunged forward, lips mashing against Dean’s, effectively silencing the man. 

Dean threw caution to the wind and let himself fall into the kiss. He hummed as Cas parted his lips and chased after Dean’s tongue piercing. He gasped when Cas caught his tongue and sucked as his hands found Dean’s ass and gave a rough, possessive squeeze.

Only then did Castiel pull back, eyes heavy-lidded and lips spit-slick as his eyes transitioned between looking at Dean’s lips, new tattoo, and his eyes. 

“Ya like it, Cas?” Dean asked.

A small smile made one corner of Castiel’s lips quirk up, the metal loop there catching the light.

“I like it very much, Dean.” One of Castiel’s sneaky hands was suddenly right there, wrapping around Dean’s half-hard cock and squeezing. “I like the fact that you care for me so much that you’ve chosen to mark yourself permanently with my name. It makes me feel like you’re  _mine_.”

Dean gasped, hands cranking down on Castiel’s arm and the counter as the man set up a languid pace with his palm.

“Hmmm. ‘M your’s, though.” 

Castiel’s smile was broader this time as he dipped his head to lick at the thick black lines that swirled over Dean’s chest. His tongue flicked one of Dean’s nipple piercings, causing the other man to inhale sharp and quick.

“And I am your’s.” Cas growled out the words against Dean’s ear when he rose up again. “Although, I would have liked to have been there, if only to have had your name inked into my skin as well.”

Castiel’s hand quickened its pace, making Dean’s hip bang into Cas’ forearm as he whined.

“ _Fuck_. Cas, please-”

“What do you want, Dean?”

Dean shivered, a thousand images and memories running rampant through his mind. Most would take too damn long and the bathroom wasn’t the best place for bedroom nookie. 

“Want you, Cas. Want your mouth on me. Please. Want you to suck me as you touch yourself. Want you to make yourself come while you do it.  _Please, fuck, Cas_.”

Castiel let out another bestial-sounding noise and yanked his boxers down and off before kicking them away carelessly. Ink swirled over his bared skin in dizzying eddies and whirls, forming animals and flowers, letters of obscure prayers and dead languages. His cock was already hard, bobbing as he dropped to his knees and took Dean’s length in a firmer grip.

“Oh!  _Fuck_. Cas!” Dean’s head smacked against the mirror.

Cas was going straight for gold out of the gate; just sliding his mouth down Dean’s dick and swallowing when his nose pushed against Dean’s belly. He pulled back with a wet pop, licking his own palm and sliding it over his own erection.

Then he was back at it. Dean’s toes curled against the bathroom rug by the sink. The fingers of one hand tangled in that messy mohawk as Cas’ head bobbed. He could hear his own breathing, ragged and heavy as Cas went to town. There were other sounds; the wet, obscene noises produced by Cas’ own pleasuring and those of his mouth on Dean’s cock.

Dean took it all in, falling into a haze of pleasure and need. Fire raged beneath his skin, burning for a way to get free as Cas’ tongue traced patterns over the sensitive underside of the head of his cock. 

Shit. He wasn’t gonna last long. It was too damn good.  _Too good, too good, too good_.

Cas moaned on his knees like he knew what Dean was thinking. With a  _pop_ , Cas pulled back, gazing upward at Dean. His blue eyes were dark, pupils gobbling up the bright irises with lust. His lips were swollen and spit-slick, reddened and far too tempting. His free hand flew up and down his cock as his breath stammered from his open mouth.

“Come for me, Dean.” 

Castiel was back on Dean’s dick before he could register it, taking Dean deep and sucking hard as he moaned. 

The vibrations, heat, and sensations proved to be too much.

“ _Oh_. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.  _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Cas!”

Dean’s back bowed as his body jerked and he came. His fingers cranked down hard on Cas’ hair, no doubt tugging sharply. Pleasure exploded behind his eyes. He forced them open so he could watch Cas come.

With a strangled whimper around Dean’s cock, Cas came. His body trembled and shook, eyes flying wide and then sliding shut as he moaned around Dean like a fucking porn star. And holy shit, what Dean would have given for an instant refractory period right then.

Dean bent, hoisting Cas up and perching him atop the counter despite it post-orgasm jelly-legs. He kissed along the man’s shadowed jaw sweetly before using a wet washcloth to clean them both up. 

“So you like the tat that much, huh?” Dean’s voice was still hoarse.

Castiel nuzzled the bolt of Dean’s jaw and sighed.

“I thought we had this conversation.”

“It was less of a conversation and more kinky let’s-get-it-on-time.”

Cas huffed a laugh against his shoulder. “Yes, Dean. I very much like your tattoo. In fact, I think I know what I’ll be getting for your birthday.”

***                                                         ***                                                       ***

Cas had been right.

There was something possessively sexy about having your name inked onto someone’s skin.

 


End file.
